


leave behind what holds you down

by januarys



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/januarys/pseuds/januarys
Summary: “I think," Lara Jean says slowly, "that it’s time we consummated this completely real relationship.”Peter should probably be cool about this. Peter should probably give her the Kavinsky-grin and reply in the affirmative. Hell yeah, let’s consummate theshitout of this.Instead he chokes on his Yakult, trails of it running down his chin and splutters. “What.”





	leave behind what holds you down

They’re sitting on his bed, in his room, surrounded by abandoned scrapbooking supplies and golden hour polaroid selfies. It’s late Saturday afternoon and dusk is starting to show its face. Peter reaches past Lara Jean for a yoghurt, noting that she’s drumming her fingers against her thigh.

Tap, tap tap.

“I think...” Lara Jean says, slowly, as though she’s thinking out loud - but Peter knows her by now, knows how her wavelength bounces back and forth, and Peter knows she’s been sitting on this for awhile, “I think that it’s time we consummated this completely real relationship.”

Peter should probably be cool about this. Peter should probably give her the Kavinsky-grin and reply in the affirmative. Hell yeah, let’s consummate the _shit_ out of this.

Instead he chokes on his Yakult, trails of it running down his chin and splutters. “ _W_ _hat._ ”

Lara Jean looks halfway between amused and annoyed, or serious. Or concerned. Maybe a mix of the four. Peter can’t tell because he’s choking on _yoghurt_ so he’s struggling to both clear his airways and even _look at her._

“We should consummate this! Us!” Lara Jean says brightly, leaning over to tap Peter’s back lightly. “It’s probably time.”

 _Probably time_.  

“There’s never - ” Peter manages to push it down, take a breath, and looks over at his decidedly-real-but- _what-the-hell_ girlfriend. “What brought this on? You know what, you need to stop reading those bodice-rippers. I’m going to give them to Goodwill. _All of them_. I thought you already did that.”

Lara Jean rolls her eyes, a small smile on her lips. “I don’t even wear a bodice for you to rip anyway. That’s not the point.”

“Is Chris behind this?” Peter asks, and if he sounds too casual it’s because his heart is trying to catch up to his mouth. “Did she suggest - wait, Chris doesn’t suggest - she _demands_ , whoa. I bet she demanded this.”

“Chris didn’t demand anything.” Lara Jean frowns. “This was all me. Not that I’m demanding it but -”

“Whoa, whoa but nothing.” Peter declares, turning around to face Lara Jean completely. She shifts her hand to wipe the yoghurt from his chin, her frown filtered with affection, but still more frown. Her hands feel clammy. She’s nervous. “We’ve never talked about this before, Covey. Why now?”

Lara Jean pulls back, her hair falling over the side of her face. Peter wants to push it back  over her ear but she needs her space at the moment, if the nervous wringing of her hands is anything to go by.

“It’s what... it’s what couples do, right? Like. I’m not stupid - I know it’s a thing.” Lara Jean’s voice is small. “It almost _definitely_ was a thing on the ski trip -”

“Hey, whoa. You do know that I was never going to pressure you into anything like that. Like, at _all_.” Peter reassures her, covers her joined hands with one of his own and squeezes gently. “That was the last thing on my mind, you know that. I just - I missed you. I wanted to be near you, Lara Jean. Remember?”

Her lips curl upwards in a tiny smile. “Of course,” she says quietly. “I remember all of it. Every detail. Even though it was like, six months ago but...”

Peter could get lost in Lara Jean’s dark eyes. He has before, countless times - when he tried to seem nonchalant about flirting with her, _fake_ flirting with her, Lara Jean’s eyes always made him stumble. Almost give up the act.

He reaches up and holds her face, thumb resting on her chin. He gently coaxes her to face him and can’t stop the warm smile he gives her.

“You know I don’t care about that stuff,” Peter murmurs softly, trailing his fingers along Lara Jean’s jaw to tuck her long hair behind her ear. “Okay yeah, once I did, like, with Gen - but you’re different. I want to do things right with you. I want you to be ready, _not_ because you feel you have to.”

Lara Jean sighs softly, leaning into his touch. She reaches up her hand to intertwine their fingers together. “A million girls would give anything to hear their boyfriends say that to them.”

“So... you don’t want me to say it?” Peter asks, confused.

She brings their hands down to her lap, strokes his knuckles with her thumb. “I definitely want you to say it, and to mean it. Which I know you do. You’re great, you know that right?”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “But...?”

“It’s not...” Lara Jean begins to say, but she trails off. Peter ducks his head slightly to meet her gaze, which is studiously avoiding his own. “Okay, it’s not because I feel like I _have_ to. So don’t think you’ve said or done anything to make me feel that way, because you really haven’t.”

“Well that’s a relief, but - _whoa_.”

Lara Jean shifts her position, climbs into Peter’s lap and he’s all-too aware of the sudden proximity between them. His words die in his throat as Lara Jean links her fingers behind his neck, her thighs all but straddling his waist and they are _really close_ , about as close as the hot-tub way back when. Peter hasn’t seen this side of Lara Jean since then, he’s not too sure how to handle it.

He can probably put his hands on her waist. That’s a good place to start.

“Hi.” Lara Jean says softly, and Peter feels the heat pool in his belly at the sound of her voice.

“Hey,” Peter replies. “What was I saying before you did, uh. This?”

Lara Jean shrugs, and Peter swallows at the movement. “Probably something really sweet, with underlying romantic metaphors.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.” Peter grins, curling an arm around Lara Jean’s small waist to hold her closer. She sits flush against him. His cotton shirt, her button down blouse and _definitely_ a bra as well. There’s not too many layers between them.

Peter presses his forehead against Lara Jean’s and breathes. She smells like his bed sheets mixed with the lingering scent of her warm perfume. _Control yourself, Kavinsky._

“Peter,” Lara Jean begins, “Peter, it’s not because I feel like I have to. It’s because...”

He pulls back to see Lara Jean biting her bottom lip softly, her eyes glancing in the corner of his room. Her long hair breaks up the late afternoon sun into brilliant shards of light across their skin. Peter feels her take another deep breath, pulling back just enough so she can meet his eyes.

“It’s because I want to. I’m - I’m _ready._ ”

Lara Jean says it with enough bravado that Peter can’t stop the chuckle that bubbles from his chest. She watches him with slight confusion as rests his forehead against her collar, Peter’s shoulders shaking with easy laughter.

“Did I - I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Lara Jean questions. “Are you having a stroke? Peter, are -”

At the warm press of his mouth at the base of her throat, Lara Jean falls quiet. Peter’s lip brush against the soft skin of her neck, and she slightly stiffens at the contact. Peter knows she’s not scared, because she knows that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her or make her uncomfortable.

Peter pulls Lara Jean closer to him, as much as he possibly can, and if he concentrates hard enough then he can feel the marathon that her heartbeat is running. He pulls his head back and catches her eyes, and they seem a little heavier. A little more dazed.

He did that.

Then he closes the distance between them, and Peter kisses her softly, slowly. Like it’s been six months since they last kissed, like this is the first time. Not on a track course, a lacrosse field. Like it’s only them, together in this room in the afternoon sun - and it is. It’s just them now. Only them.

Peter gently coaxes open Lara Jean’s lips, the warmth of her mouth inviting and sweet. She sighs as their tongues brush, and he can’t stop the little sound that comes from his throat as her fingers gently tug the hair at the nape of his neck.

He’s probably trembling. Lara Jean has that effect on him.

Peter manages to tear away from Lara Jean’s mouth, rests his nose in the crook of her neck and just _breathes_. Over and over again. Lara Jean runs her fingers through his hair and she almost cradles him against her. Peter doesn’t realise that his hands are shaking as he clings to Lara Jean, and somehow she’s rolled them both on their sides.

It’s dusk. The sky behind his window is technicolour blue and orange. Lara Jean curls into him and Peter holds her tight, rests his chin atop her head.

“I’m not ready.” Peter admits in a low voice, and Lara Jean snuggles into him. Their legs are tangled together. It’s comforting and scary at the same time. “You’re - you’re something else, Lara Jean. I want it to be perfect, because you’re perfect - “

“No way, no I’m not.” Lara Jean begins to protest.

Peter plants a kiss on her head. “Hey, you are to me. You’re the best. You _deserve_ the best. Not us having like, a quickie because my mom is due back any second now. You get it?”

He feels her sigh softly, remembering. “Oh,” she says, “right. I’m sorry, I didn’t really - “

“Don’t apologise.” Peter smiles, shifts back to look her in the eyes. “Sometimes hormones are the worst.”

“The _absolute_ worst. Gosh, I suck.”

Peter grins, and he could stay like this forever. He could stay in the ocean of body warm bed sheets and polaroids of their little moments frozen forever in time. He could have Lara Jean slotted against him like the puzzle piece he never knew he was missing, at least until she fit in the empty space. Her scent engulfs him and Peter buries his face in her hair, nuzzling softly.

“Do me a favour, Covey.”

“Sure.” Lara Jean says. Peter’s hands are sure and steady around her, the heat that was in his belly is now burning away in his chest. “Fire away.”

“Don’t use the word consummate again. Please.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down.”

“Nope.”

**Author's Note:**

> (There may be a sequel, and it probably won't be as innocent - I mean, sweet - I mean, PG rated. I don't know just yet. We'll see.
> 
> Edit 28/8: I checked my emails just now and just. Wow. Thank you all for such warm and hilarious feedback. Sequel coming soon - stay tuned!
> 
> Edit 3/9: Sequel may be found [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831297) **Warning:** it is not PG13!)
> 
> This movie was lovely. These two are lovely. I hope I did them justice. Well, I did probably use a liberal amount of _hey_ and _whoa_ because, well. Duh. Story title from 'No Parallels' - Hands Like Houses.


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